


The Sweetest Blow

by supercanaries



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:53:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3819523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercanaries/pseuds/supercanaries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, it isn't painful. It's just a little distress in the night, something a tough woman like Santana Lopez - who's been not only educated to slap-fights in the middle of hallways by her cheerleading coach during her high school experience, but also put through the emotional downfall of a forced coming out and being temporary rejected by her beloved because of that - would know how to handle. After all, she's sure Quinn herself kicked her a few times when Santana was at the bottom of the pyramid anyway.</p>
<p>However, as the night wears on, it gets worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Blow

**Author's Note:**

> Just me practicing with random prompts and ideas, because I'm not used to writing some ships and I really want to learn how to do it ^^ ! (inspired by a prompt by otpprompts on tumblr)

At first, it isn't painful. It's just a little distress in the night, something a tough woman like Santana Lopez - who's been not only educated to slap-fights in the middle of hallways by her cheerleading coach during her high school experience, but also put through the emotional downfall of a forced coming out and being temporary rejected by her beloved because of that - would know how to handle. After all, she's sure Quinn herself kicked her a few times when Santana was at the bottom of the pyramid anyway. 

However, as the night wears on, it gets worse.

It's been a few days actually. At first, the baby was the calmest. Rachel Berry in the flesh complained about how her pregnancy hadn't been at all as 'easy' as Santana's. Santana doesn't think there's such thing as easy pregnancies. It always comes with some distress, either a physical or an psychological one, but also with incomparable emotions, some of those Santana didn't have faith in herself to believe she could experience them (being a heartless bitch of course). She did think she was tough enough for the days when she felt sick though; and most of the time she was indeed. 

It's just that the baby started kicking and tonight it looks like she won't be allowed any rest.

She tries to shift, find an angle that will make the kicks stop, but everytime she tries, it doesn't last for more than a few minutes. 

Brittany moves behind her, in her sleep, her breath barely audible in the room. 

Santana really wishes she didn't have to do this, but Brittany made clear that she wants to be present whenever there's need. Which is why, even though reluctantly, Santana turns to her and grabs her arm, tugging gently. She kind of hopes Brittany won't wake up, she doesn't _want_ to wake her up, but since they've been expecting a baby, it's like Brittany is awake even when she's asleep. The mere touch of Santana's fingers startles her aware, eyes wide and visible even in the dark.

“Don't tell me.” Brittany hisses. “Alien invasion?”

Santana chuckles but then she feels it again, and this time the kick is even less gentle than the last one, so she groans.

“Everything okay?” Brittany's voice immediately shifts, her concern sounding and feeling warm in the dark. 

“She's kicking.” Santana says before she can think. 

She believes this is due to her need to comfort Brittany and wash her fears away. 

Brittany hesitates.

“Is it just kicking? I mean … regular kicking?” She asks once more.

“Yeah.” Santana breathes out. “It's a little bit more than usual, but I don't think anything bad is happening.”

“Maybe I should take you to the hospital.” Brittany says, her concern visible in the dark, eyes shining with preoccupation. 

“Britt.” Santana leans in, hand rushing to rest on Brittany's cheek. Her wife seems to calm at the caress. “It's fine. She's just kicking a lot.”

In a few seconds, Brittany's face shifts, features softening until her lips are tilting in the most gorgeous of smiles – one of those that still makes Santana's heart flip on itself. Many times she has wondered if with being married and living together every hour of everyday she was going to stop feeling so enamored with Brittany; she believes there's never going to be a day where she'll feel less enamored, in love and attracted to her.

“So maybe she wants to be a dancer,” Brittany says.

Santana smiles hugely, a wet chuckle making her shoulders shake. Her eyes suddenly feel moist, tears of happiness and pure bliss threatening to stream. Pregnancy is making her more emotional, and she can let go to it, at least when they're in private.

“Maybe she does.” Santana agrees. “And if she is taking that from you,” She hisses, hand now sliding through Brittany's beautiful blond hair, “she won't even need that much practice.”

“That's not true.” Brittany says, though she's grinning. “Statistics state that ninety per cent of children that aspire to follow their parents' steps are only most likely to succeed because experienced parents make sure they receive the best education in those fields.”

Santana smiles more widely and sighs contently.

She's about to add something about how she believes their kid will surely come to this world as a genius already, when another kick makes her groan and wince.

“Come here,” Brittany prompts, spreading her arms to welcome her.

Santana doesn't hesitate. This is why she woke Brittany up in the first place. If there's someone who can always help her, in any situation, that's her wife. She moves until she has her back against Brittany's body, her wife's arm coming up to rest on her side. Brittany gives her a gentle tug and then their hips are joined. Santana sighs in relief with the feeling of warmth and familiarity invading her. She's where she belongs and where she feels safe. 

“Breathe in and out and remember the pain you feel,” Brittany whispers in her ear, her breath ghosting over Santana's neck and making her face heat up just a little, “So when she kicks again, you'll know how it will be already.”

Santana doesn't know what it means at first; can't understand how knowing would be of any help. But she trusts Brittany, with all herself, has always done so, therefore she starts breathing in and out deeply. That helps her drift toward sleep. It puts her in a state where most of her senses are null and all that she can feel is the embrace of her love. 

At first there's no kicking, so Santana almost falls asleep. When it happens, it takes her by surprise and she gasps, groaning and jolting in Brittany's hold.

“You're not doing it,” Brittany scolds her fondly.

Santana tries to settle again, feeling naive for having hoped there wasn't going to be any kicking at all.

She tries to do what Brittany said, tries to remember the exact discomfort. It's not hard when it's been happening so often lately. The sensation wraps over her easily and a few minutes later, it's almost as if she can experience it for real. 

When the baby kicks again, Santana is ready for it.

It's not like she can't feel it, but it's less painful as it was before. Mostly, it doesn't take her by surprise.

She smiles, cheek pressed against the pillow. Brittany is a genius, of course she would have known how to fix this.

“There, better?” Brittany asks, probably noticing the kicking didn't startle Santana as much as before. 

Santana settles more firmly in her hold and closes her eyes for good, shivering when Brittany moves to kiss her shoulder softly. 

With warm kisses and gentle brushes, it is easier for Santana to let go. Mostly, she figures, it is because it feels as if she could suffer anything when Brittany is vigil and present, there with her. It's as if the pain blurred into tickling.

That night, she dreams of their life with the kid, dreams of a future that is so close she almost feels like it's the reality she's going to wake up to tomorrow. Well, not tomorrow, but soon.


End file.
